


First of Many

by spicywatson



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Father's Day, Fluff, M/M, Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 23:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19238884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicywatson/pseuds/spicywatson
Summary: Ed and Oswald celebrate their first Father's Day together.





	First of Many

The first words Ed hears this morning are ones he’d never expected to hear spoken to him, not once in his life. But he finds himself not minding it, not minding it at all. Maybe even enjoying it.

“Happy Father’s Day,” Oswald murmurs, his soft lips tickling Ed’s ear in a way that makes him warm all over. _‘Father’s,’_ he thinks. Ed lets his eyes flutter closed again, letting it sink in. _Ed is a father now._ When he wakes up in the morning or comes home at night after the Riddle Factory, the first thing he does is go and see their baby. Their clever little crime lord in-training. Despite how tired he is, the corners of his mouth tug, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Oswald’s practically draped himself over Ed like a cat now, the warm weight of his body bringing Ed back to the waking world. Clearly Oswald is not going to let his husband get another second of sleep, especially with the way he’s kissing along Ed’s jaw and pressing his nose into his hair.

Unable to resist his insistence any longer, Ed turns over to face Oswald, who gives him a sweet smile and settles onto his chest. “Happy Father’s Day,” Ed says, grinning as Oswald leans in to give him his good-morning kiss.

He takes a moment just to admire Oswald, to marvel at how the vibrant morning sun makes him glow even more than he already does. The light catches on his long lashes, framing his eyes with gold, filling them with brightness. Oswald is _so happy_ that Ed can practically feel it radiating off of him.

Closing his arms around his smaller husband, Ed flips them over and pins Oswald underneath him. Their height difference certainly does have perks. Oswald laughs in surprise, head tipped back into the pillows. Ed takes the opportunity to drop a trail of kisses along Oswald’s exposed neck, although it’s somewhat difficult with the way he keeps writhing and giggling.

“Oh man, I sure am tired,” Ed says suddenly, removing his lips from Oswald’s throat. He casts his husband a sly smile.

“Maybe you’re just old.”

“I don’t know if I can move.”

“What?” Oswald says breathlessly, that handsome smile still plastered on his face.

“I can’t get up,” Ed says dramatically, throwing a hand across his forehead like a Victorian lady about to faint. He abruptly collapses on top of Oswald, letting his body go lax.

“No no no, ED!” Oswald shrieks from underneath him, his voice quivering as he struggles to suppress his laughter in favor of breathing.

“What was that? I’m afraid I can’t hear you, Ozzie,” Ed smiles devilishly, quite pleased with himself. He buries his face into Oswald’s hair and sighs contentedly, exaggeratedly. “Mmmm. This _is_ comfortable.” Oswald continues to squeak and squirm under Ed’s weight, his voice muffled but surprisingly loud. Ed feigns snoring just to tease him even more.

Oswald is at last allowed to breathe again when the faint crying of a baby crackles over the monitor. Already an incredibly attentive father, Ed quickly rolls off of Oswald, who gasps in relief, and reaches for his glasses on the nightstand. Oswald moves to get up too, already slipping on his robe, but Ed gently pushes him back down.

“I’ll take care of him. You just rest,” he says, kissing Oswald briefly on the cheek.

“Hmm, that’s funny coming from the man who just tried to crush me to death!” Ed bursts into laughter at that. “I want to see him, anyway,” Oswald adds, voice becoming soft and sweet, his eyes sparkling as he thinks of his baby. He finishes securing the robe around his waist and reaches for Ed, who offers his husband both hands and helps him off the bed. 

Together, they pad to their child’s nursery, a little room painted in spring green with thick purple carpeting. Oswald quickly and eagerly hobbles to Martin, who continues to fuss in his crib, and he gently lifts the tiny baby and holds him close. He begins to coo at Martin, rubbing soothing circles on his little back. The baby calms down almost immediately, relaxing into Oswald’s comforting embrace. The image is breathtakingly beautiful; Ed would take a photograph to keep in his pocket, over his heart, but he can’t peel his eyes away to find a camera. Oswald sways gently and hums to Martin, the morning light streaming through the window softening his face. The baby’s eyes flutter closed and his tiny fist gradually unclenches, releasing the silk fabric of Oswald’s robe. This brings a smile to Ed’s face, and he feels his heart warm as he finds himself wandering closer.

“It’s a little chilly this morning,” Ed remarks, not sure whether he’s thinking aloud or talking at Oswald, who is fully fixated on the baby in his arms. Ed pulls a soft lilac-colored blanket from the crib and unfolds it, offering to wrap Martin in it. 

In response, his husband gives him a smile, sweet as honey. “Here, go see Daddy,” Oswald whispers, pressing his lips to the baby’s forehead before preparing to transfer him to his other father. Martin is still sleepy, his eyes occasionally drifting open and shut again, but he’s awake nonetheless.

“Hello there, my little genius,” Ed gushes as the baby is tucked into his arms.

“I think he just wanted to be snuggled,” Oswald says, amused.

“And all he had to do was cry. Hmmm, maybe I should try that on you when _I_ want to be snuggled,” Ed laughs. Oswald scoffs but leans up on his toes to drop a kiss to Ed’s cheek.

Martin stirs in Ed’s arms, reaching out his tiny hands, apparently unsatisfied with the lack of attention he’s receiving. Ed takes one of his little fists in between two fingers, and is momentarily shocked at just how _small_ the baby is.

“Okay Martin, let’s see if you can answer this one,” Ed begins, as Oswald grumbles something about his husband telling yet another riddle to an infant. “It’s a little tricky, but I’m sure you’ll know the answer. What’s green and red and goes round and round?”

“Oh Ed, not _that_ one, it’s too violent!” Oswald scolds half-heartedly, eyebrows pinching together, clearly unable to hide how endearing he finds it.

“Frogs in a blender!” Ed announces, tapping the baby’s little nose with the pad of his finger. This makes the baby smile, his big brown eyes lighting up as he gazes at Ed. Oswald gasps in delight at the positive reaction from Martin. “I knew you could get it!” Ed exclaims, bursting with happiness. He finds himself already thinking into the future, when Martin will be old enough to tell his own riddles, to join Ed on a heist, to carry on his parents’ legacy. “You’re so smart, aren’t you?”

Oswald hums.

“Gosh, he’s going to be so brilliant, Oswald,” Ed beams, voice filled with awe and excitement.

Oswald smiles warmly and strokes Martin’s little pink cheek. “Well of course,” he chuckles, adding, “he’s got such a smart daddy to learn from!” 

Ed practically melts under the praise, leaning forward to give Oswald a little kiss of appreciation. “Come on, I’ll make us some breakfast,” he offers, gesturing for Oswald to follow him to the kitchen. He’d nearly forgotten the surprise he’d left waiting downstairs the night before, after Oswald had already fallen asleep. It had taken him hours to adorn the kitchen, nervously arranging and rearranging the decor, but he’s sure it will be a lovely gift for Oswald. 

As soon as they start walking together, it becomes apparent to Ed that his husband probably hopes to hold Martin again, as Oswald is practically hanging off of Ed. He is rather attached to their son, Ed’s noticed. Oswald thinks about him constantly, worries about him nonstop. Ed gives him a knowing look before gingerly placing Martin into Oswald’s arms. Oswald doesn’t try to hide the smile that spreads across his face.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sight that awaits them when they reach the kitchen is not what Ed had expected. Or planned for. Oswald squeaks in bewilderment.

The hundreds of lilies that Ed had meticulously placed around the room the night before were still there, blooming beautifully and painting the kitchen with white and gold. But now, several of Oswald’s henchmen rush in and out of the room, carrying with them countless bouquets of bright red roses.

Apparently they’d both thought they would surprise the other with a mountain of flowers. Oswald bites his lip, suspending a smile. Ed laughs once, a bit loudly.

“Just- just put them anywhere there’s space…” Oswald instructs his men, trailing off nervously. Like Ed, he’d definitely not foreseen this. Vase after vase of roses are placed in any area that is not already occupied by lilies. Many of the bouquets end up on the floor. Pollen drifting like dust, petals everywhere.

Even with a baby in his arms, Oswald is fierce as ever, giving his men venomous glares as he orders them out of his mansion. When the last of them have finally filed out of the house, the sound of the doors slamming echoing through the now silent room, Oswald turns to Ed.

“Well,” he pauses, “surprise.”

A sort of nervous silence stretches out for several moments, Ed and Oswald standing uneasily among the sea of fresh lilies and roses, each unsure of what to say or how to act. A heavy perfume hangs in the air, tickling their noses.

Martin sneezes.

Ed and Oswald at last burst into laughter, giggling at both the absurdity of the situation and at the fact that each had thought so sweetly of the other (and really, they both find the sneezes of their tiny baby to be absolutely adorable).

When they finally catch their breath, both of them leaning on each other, Oswald speaks again. “Thank you, Eddie darling-”

“-Thank _you_ , sweetheart, this is wonderful-” 

“-I actually have something else for you,” Oswald finishes, flashing his husband a coy smile. Ed raises his eyebrows but doesn’t mention that he too has another gift for Oswald. 

Oswald disappears into the living room and returns a moment later, baby tucked tightly into the crook of one arm and a large but lightweight box held in the other. He presents it to Ed. “Happy Father’s Day,” he chirps.

Ed carefully takes the box from him, first admiring the gleaming green and gold wrapping Oswald chose before delicately peeling the paper off. 

It’s a clothing box. Must be another lovely suit (Oswald knows how much Ed appreciates a nice double-breasted jacket). But when Ed peers inside, sifting through the metallic-colored tissue paper, he can’t help but gasp.

He pulls a long, dazzling green coat from the wrapping, letting the box fall to the floor. It’s the most gorgeous trench Ed’s ever seen: richly colored, hand-sewn, shimmering with question mark designs that fade and brighten in shifting light. Ed exhales shakily, entirely in awe of this incredible thing. Oswald knows what he likes, knows him better than anyone.

“Do you like it?” Oswald asks softly, eyes sparkling.

Ed feels like he could fall in love with Oswald all over again. Absolutely enchanted, he says, “I love it, Ozzie. I really love it.”

“There’s something else in the box.”

Ed gives him a puzzled look but reaches inside the box that he left on the floor. Inside is a smaller green coat that matches his exactly. Presumably for Martin. His spitting-image. Ed laughs breathlessly and holds back tears stinging his eyes. 

“Oswald, this is incredible,” he whispers, “Thank you.” He leans down and kisses Oswald deeply, smiling a little as Oswald cradles his face with his free hand. They separate, Ed noticing a warm blush on Oswald’s cheeks as his husband moves to take a seat at the kitchen counter. As soon as Oswald sits down, both he and the baby are entirely concealed by an ocean of white and red blossoms. Ed wouldn’t even know he was there if he hadn’t just seen him.

“Um, Ed?” Comes his voice from behind the thicket of flowers. “Maybe we should move some of these? I mean, they’re very beautiful, but…” he trails off, unsure of how to finish.

Chuckling, Ed clears away the bouquets until Oswald at last comes back into view. “Actually, Oswald,” he begins, smiling a little mischievously, “I have something else for you too.”

Oswald tilts his head curiously as Ed reaches into one of the cupboards behind him (one Oswald is too short to reach) and pulls out a small purple gift box. Oswald carefully takes it from Ed’s nervous hands. He opens it.

It’s a tiny and delicate origami penguin, one to accompany the other two that decorate the mantle in the living room. 

It’s Martin. The family of penguins is complete.

Oswald gasps, a hand flying up to cover his mouth. “Ed,” he breathes, all other words seeming to fail him. Tears cling to Oswald’s eyelashes and Ed waits anxiously, his hands fidgeting behind his back. It’s amazing how such a small, fragile thing can carry so much weight. 

Still seated and not wanting to disturb the sleeping baby he’s still holding, Oswald summons Ed closer. His eyes glitter and his mouth is pursed in a tight line, like he’s trying to keep himself from crying. As Ed steps closer, he’s pulled into a hug, Oswald’s free arm wrapping up around his neck and his face pressing into Ed’s shoulder. Not surprisingly, Oswald sobs against Ed, his tears soaking through the fabric of Ed’s shirt. Ed hushes him gently, stroking his hair.

They hold each other like that for a while.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He feels Oswald’s eyes on him as he dances around the kitchen, preparing a breakfast of eggs, pancakes, bacon, and fruit. Oswald is perched at the counter, nursing Martin from a bottle as he casts dreamy looks up at Ed. Ed occasionally catches him watching and responds each time with gentle smiles, winks, and sweet little kisses.

Oswald looks so beautiful like this, in his robe, hair soft and unstyled, his guard down and his heart completely open. Tender and affectionate. Sometimes it’s almost shocking to see him in this way, with Martin nestled close and bundled in blankets. Ed finds it increasingly difficult to tear his eyes away. 

Ed never wanted the white picket fence life. A house in the suburbs, a wife, two kids, and a thankless job was exactly the kind of dull existence that would have suffocated Ed. He needed the thrill of a midnight bank heist, the exhilaration of complete control, the rush of blood through his veins. Having someone by his side who loves him dearly (and whom he equally adores) was an extra advantage he’d never thought he’d have. Oswald has given him everything, everything he’s ever wanted and more. With the Penguin he has all of the violence and cleverness his heart desires. The Riddler and the Penguin can wipe out entire gangs and strike fear into the heart of the city in a single night. They’ve certainly made a name for themselves, ensuring no one will dare to cross them. But with Oswald, Ed has domesticity, tenderness, family. They share romantic dinners, cozy nights curled up on the couch, slow and easy Saturday mornings. It’s a perfect balance.

The timer dings and Ed realizes that the pancakes have just finished cooking. He serves everything up neatly and passes a plate to Oswald, who eagerly tucks into the breakfast. Martin has woken up again and gazes lazily up at Oswald from his position in his arms.

Ed gives his husband a quick peck on the mouth, to which Oswald replies with an appreciative hum. He would let his lips linger a little longer but breakfast is going to get cold. He settles at the counter next to Oswald. Together they indulge in the banquet Ed has prepared, talking and laughing as Ed reviews the morning paper.  
It’s only their first Father’s Day, but Ed is already looking forward to many more.


End file.
